Self Conclusions
by R.J. Hamilton
Summary: With the Society's clutches deep within Bennett, he will stop at nothing to get revenge against Brandon & Brielle. Find out in the final installment of the trilogy if they will survive.


**SELF CONCLUSIONS**

by

R.J. Hamilton

Self Conclusions

Copyright © 2010 by R.J. Hamilton

ISBN-13: 978-1456388430

ISBN-10: 1456388436

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This book is dedicated to the 4 A's and M whose love is unconditional and forgiving.

The following is our story, the tale of the Hudson's, an ordinary family with extraordinary abilities. We've jotted it down in order to make it public in case anything more is to happen to us. Our tale will not be stifled or kept quiet any longer.

Our existence is known. You've heard about us, seen us on television, not the Hudson's, but versions of our kind made clear through the imaginations of many yet clouded by doubts of the few. You see us everyday though you don't realize it. We brush by numerous in passing on the sidewalks of the crowded streets. We've met eyes on several an occasions. We've heard your thoughts in the bustling of a restaurant as you sit quietly with your family in the corner booth. Our secret is just that, our secret. It's a burden many wish to have but could not stand to face the reality of possessing it in all actuality. We live among you, but befriending us would be a mistake, one we will not allow you to make.

Chapter 1

Brandon's Heartache

"As I lie half asleep on the uncomfortable vinyl of the train's seat, I feel the motions beneath my body as it glides along its smooth metal rails. A welcomed numbness takes over slightly as I shift for much needed comfort. I begin to let myself go, relaxing mentally. The events over the last few days have taken their toll. My sorrow and sadness are overwhelming. The loss is too much for me to handle. I drift more deeply into slumber as moisture escapes the corner of my eye. Darkness engulfs my mind. The train's soothing motion flows gently into my soul, embracing my thoughts. I slip into my mind's sleepy depths…

I walk through the woods down a paved, asphalt path. The moonlight pours down gently through the dark, leafy canopy from above. The shadows from the trees contrast my own as I continue toward the lake. I recognize this place almost instantly. It's our favorite fishing spot from my childhood, Eagle's Landing. My father used to take me here. As I approach the lake, I notice a shadow flow quickly and silently passed me to the right from my peripheral vision. I glance in that direction. The shadow is gone. The crunch of the pebbles between the tar and my booted feet is one of the only sounds in the air. The atmosphere is still around me. I near the lake, it is still. There is no harmonious orchestra to fill my ears. The crickets are silent, frogs are quiet, and the shore sits calmly against its bordering sand. I step from the blackness of the manmade surface onto the beach's sand. The reflection of the moon upon the water is breathtaking. The white illumination bounces off the surface of the water like a mirror. The sky is flawless and clear. The stars twinkling like bits of nothing in comparison to the gigantic full moon.

I begin to rid myself of the confines of my clothing as I did once before so long ago. Much has changed since then, my high school years seem an eternity. I flop lazily into the soft, cool sand. A slight breath escapes my lungs as I slump. I reach for my boots and unlace them, slipping them off. I remove my socks and then stand. My shirt goes first and then my jeans, naked besides my boxer shorts. The warmth of the summer air is enough to keep my skin happy with the lack of protection from the elements. I take a few steps forward to the water. My toes touch the cool water as a shiver flows up my legs and into my core. Goosebumps form all along my skin with the initial shock of the water's temperature. I continue into the lake until I am up to my waist as I admire the moon in all its glory. It sits low in the sky. A small fish, probably a Sunfish or large minnow, swishes the water against my leg as it makes its escape.

A sparkle beneath the water several feet in front of me catches my eye. I continue wading in. The illumination begins to become more intense. I get nearer but am still a few feet short of it. The water touches my neck and then closes in on my chin. I take another step into the lake and sink over the drop-off. Fully submerged and engulfed in the freedom of the liquid, I begin to panic as my body plunges into the murky depths. My arms soar toward the moonlit sky above. I grab at the water with my scooped hands and kick my feet. The water's surface continues to get further and further from me. I kick and paddle harder in an effort to find the air I desperately need and had exhaled in my surprise from the fall into the depths. Bits of carbon dioxide escape my lips and float up through the water to the surface as if taunting me with their freedom. My lungs start getting heavy, the pressure is becoming unbearable. My efforts to surface lessen and are noticeably wasted as the atmosphere above seems even further with every kick and push. I feel a deep thumping in my brain as my eyes feel like they're going to burst from their sockets. I stop trying to make it to the freedom above and close my eyes. The last couple of tiny bubbles leave my body to join their brothers in the air. My body continues to glide downward, my eyes closed, arms relaxed and effortless. After all I've been through in my life, is this how I'm going to die, simply drowning in a lake?

Even with my eyes closed, the light penetrates my eyelids through the thin skin. I open them. The intensity of the light is so great that the deep water's murkiness is just a shadow behind me. The silt snows gently down between me and the glow. Hands form from the globe of light; it's like a moon underwater. They reach for me as I startle and try to sway my body backward from them. As the hands embrace the sides of my head, a face immerges from the radiance. My wife's beauty is more exquisite than it was when we'd first met. _Sarah, my love, I miss you._ This is the last thought I have as I involuntarily draw a water-filled breath through my nose. Her face closes in on mine as our lips meet. Warmth surges into my body.

I jump in my seat on the train dripping with sweat. I gasp for air hyperventilating as I sit up. The lake is still my reality. I gain my thoughts as my head clears. I cradle my head in my hands for a moment and quickly remove my hands from it. They are soaked with perspiration. I feel disgusted and dirty. Running my fingers through my hair, I realize even my hair is wet from the ordeal. I glance over to the adjacent bench in the seating car, Brielle is asleep and still. I stand to gather a shirt to change into from the framed, metal storage compartment above. After retrieving the clothing and replace the zipper, I exit the car. I quietly slide the door closed behind me as to not disturb Brielle and continue down the hallway to the bathroom. I wait for a few moments at the door for a heavyset, older gentleman to open and abandon the restroom. A stench-filled burst of air escapes from the lavatory and fills my nostrils as I go inside hastily in order to escape further public view due to hygienic embarrassment. I latch the door behind me as I hang my shirt on the steel hook on the back of it, I go to the mirror. I brace myself with both hands on either side of the bowl and stare into the reflection.

My dark, brown hair is oily and messed; it's much longer than I like it to be. My deep, brown eyes still mesmerizing, but the wrinkles in the corners and the bags beneath them take away from their focus as being one of my best features. What used to be nicely tanned, olive-toned skin is now pasty and colorless. All of those years in the coma induced by a madman have taken their toll on me. The Brandon I once knew for his handsomeness is gone. The life and my will to live have been drained from me. Brie is all that I have left and, though I love my daughter with all of my heart and will do anything for her, it's not enough. I am nothing without my wife, my rock, my love, my Sarah. I rid myself of my t-shirt and turn on the water. I scoop and splash the water from the tap onto my face, hair, and neck. My hands resume their original position on the sink as I watch the water drip from my nose into the basin. I noticed how weathered and cracked my hands have become for a moment. I am crazed with emotions and I can't control it. I direct my sights to the mirror again and my old, worn reflection.

As I stare at myself, I begin to focus my anger and hatred at the man trapped in the mirror. _You didn't protect her! You are worthless! _I hear these words echoing over and over inside my head. The guilt is too much to handle. The heat from my power of telekinesis trapped inside my mind begins fighting for its freedom. The warmth of the blood flow surges through my body. Pressure begins to build within. The psychic force blasts from my eyes into my reflection. The mirror cracks into a spider-web of pieces, it doesn't shatter into bits, it stays within the frame. My mirrored face remains still, a jagged mess in the reflection. I drop my stare to the flow of water in the sink and breathe trying to regain control of my emotions and focus on the task at hand, to destroy what's left of the Society or die trying."

Chapter 2

Brielle's Premonition

"My shoes glide over the pavement of the sidewalk as I run. A ping of pain shoots from my feet into my thighs and hips with each impact. My arms move quickly at my sides as I try to continue my strides, my elbows tucked. The satiny, sky blue top I'm wearing flaps and flows in the wind sticking to the moisture from the perspiration on my upper chest and neck. The air is thick and my breathing is sporadic. Large stone buildings stand tall to my left and right. Only a couple of lights are randomly illuminating the frames of the windows above. Steam rises from the manhole covers and storm drains creating a light fog cluster at ground level. I glance over my right shoulder to my rear to see if they are still behind me, I see nothing but a few parked cars. I slow my stride to quiet my footfalls and soon bring it down to a walk. I stop and turn to listen in order to observe the view from behind. There are no sounds, only vehicle engines from a couple of blocks away. I brush my blonde hair from my face and look down the street more intensely, still nothing but silence. My light blue eyes strain and squint in order to ensure the clarity of emptiness. I take a deep breath and sigh in relief. As my oxygen levels regain normalcy in their levels with my steady breathing, my heart's pounding begins to slow.

Knowing I'm in the clear, I pivot back to my former direction of travel and begin to walk. The sounds of the city seep into my eardrums gently. Everything seems miles away due to the blockage from the surrounding apartment buildings. Saplings stand lonely, random, and motionless along the length of the sidewalk. _Au Secours!_ It's French for help me. The words invade my thoughts as a lone brown leaf flutters down from a nearby sapling in front of my face and flickers down to the pavement. I become more alert as an echo of sobs bounce around in my head. The weeps are not audible to others, only those of us who can read minds. The voice is female and doesn't seem at all menacing.

I notice a dark, narrow alley off to my right and approach. I control my steps in order to avoid any unnecessary noise from my soles. The passage is dark, only the sky's natural lighting penetrates the shadows. It's only about eight feet wide. I get a slight feeling of claustrophobia as I creep slowly in. My crystalline eyes search carefully from wall to wall. I continue my pace quietly. I see her crouched along the left wall. Her arms are crossed over her knees as she squats against the brick of the building beside her. The light is enough to notice the blackness of her clothes and obvious dyed, wavy hair as it falls over her shoulders covering her face. Rings decorate every finger that I can see; their silver glimmer stands out against the grime and the black nail polish. I near her. _J'ai besoin de ton aide_fills my mind. I need your help. I am within six feet of her as an echoed cackle of laughter escapes her bouncing off the confines of the walls. It is deep and sinister laughter. I stop. She stands fully and stares directly at me with her deep, brown eyes. They bury themselves within mine and begin to dig. I try to grab for my abilities but it's too late. She has me within her grasp. I am mentally paralyzed and cannot move a muscle. My body stiffly slides backward into the rough, solid masonry beside me. My back and my head hit the wall simultaneously. The pain surges through me as I try to gather enough to free myself from her grip. She stalks toward me. The mascara runs down her face leaving a dark, smeared trail from cheekbone to chin. She begins to interrogate me as she tightens her mental push against my throat…

My eyes fly open as I realize where I am. The ease of the gently rocking train vibrates beneath my body. The cloth covered ceiling above is a deep maroon. A hint of yellowish tint indicating the numerous cigarettes consumed in the car coats the fabric changing the hue of red to a brownish. I slide my body up from the vinyl seat to obtain a sitting position. I look to the other bench and notice my father's not there. My mind flies into a screaming panic. Just as I begin to stand and make a rush for the door, it slides open and he walks in, his soiled t-shirt in his hand.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he says. The one thing about my father is that he's always trying to be the comic relief in every situation. I know he's hurting more than any normal person can see just by looking at him. He flashes me a smile. I jump from my seat and grab him with both arms, squishing his ribs. I hear his back crack.

"You scared me. I didn't know what to think when I woke up and you weren't there." I loosen my tension as he gives me a quick squeeze and moves me away from him so he can look into my eyes while he talks to me. His hands hold my shoulders as he stares at me, one of which half-holding the material of the shirt, a partial fist pressing against my upper arm.

"Brielle, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry." His deep, calm voice is relaxing. His brown eyes look into mine to show the seriousness of the statement. "We are safe and nothing's going to happen to us." He knows he can't make that promise. With people like Bennett, my brother, in this world, nobody is ever completely safe. Members from the Society could be anywhere. They could be watching us right now and we'd never know it. Most of them can block others like us from detecting them mentally. But if it weren't for my ego, I probably wouldn't be standing here right now. I wouldn't even know that my father is still alive. I would be their pawn like my brother is. I know he's just doing his job as a father trying to comfort his daughter's mind, but I am not your average little girl looking for solace.

Due to my abilities, I was taken by the Society and they attempted to use me. I watched my mother die by their hand and was forced to kill my own brother because of the brainwashing they'd done on him. I know they are still after us to regain control over me and attempt to kill my father. After all my years under their care, I was witness to the gatherings of many meetings with dozens of members. I was never allowed to attend due to my unwillingness to cooperate fully. They felt as though I wasn't dedicated enough to know what was truly going on within the Society. They were right. I would've ripped their whole operation apart had I been given the opportunity.

My father's heart is empty now. I can feel the void emanating from his soul, one of the burdens of having enhanced empathic abilities. The emotions of other people around you flow into your soul uncontrollably. Sometimes it's overwhelming. The feelings of people in a crowd, their stress, anger, joy, and happiness used to leave me feeling crazy. I've learned to control the empathy now, but with a person like my father, someone so mentally strong, it's harder to keep him out.

I turn from him and sit back on the bench seat. He stuffs his t-shirt into his black, canvas backpack. He returns to his seat as well. I look out the window of the train into the moonlit French-European sky. The light from above illuminates the grapevine orchards on the hillside. The rows are running up the hills onto their peaks. The stars twinkle in the deep bluish hue of the night sky. I watch as the telephone lines running parallel the train's tracks go up and down, the highest point flashes quickly as it passes.

"Brielle, go back to sleep, we'll be there soon." He breaks my scenic concentration with his words as he slides into a lying position on the bench. I shoot him a flash of a half-smile in agreement and do the same. I adjust the shirt I've been using for a pillow and drift back off to sleep. My mind goes back and forth between the dream I'd had and the beauty of France's nighttime landscape."

Chapter 3

Bennett's Rescue

"I'm still pinned under the rubble of the mansion where they'd left me for dead. I've been in and out of consciousness so much that I don't know how long I've been trapped. My body aches all over. It's probably a good thing that I can't move that well. A large piece of something is resting on my chest and my legs are pinned as well. It hurts so badly. I can't gather up the strength to move anything off of me, even with my power, I've tried. I've been spying on Brielle, tapping into her mind's eye, watching where they are going. I will get the man I once referred to as my father and, due to her defiance, Brielle as well. My new father demanded that I accomplish this and I've failed him. He will eventually come. Maybe he's punishing me right now by making me stay here trapped. I deserve whatever is coming to me but I will not fail him again. I cough and wince with the pain as my lungs move my ribs uncomfortably. I don't dare yell or scream in pain. I bite down and bear it. As the heat from the pain of my wounds and dehydration take over again, my eyes begin to flutter. _Please, Father, help me_. I reach out to him mentally as the darkness takes a hold of me once again.

I awaken to the crunching sound of footsteps against the marble floors. The debris is scattered everywhere within the main entrance. Brandon had blown the door off its hinges when he came barging into the Society's domicile. He'd shattered bits of wood and metal far into the house. Things began to free themselves from my trapped body. I was being uncovered in a way that no normal man could accomplish. Pieces flew away and the gigantic room echoed as they smashed against the walls. My upper body is completely uncovered but I can't see. The dust creates a thick cloud impenetrable with the human eye. I begin to painfully cough again as it begins to settle around my face. A knife of rib bone stabs me in the side tearing into my muscle and tissue. I try not to breath but that is uncomfortable as well. I close my eyes as a gust of wind blows through the house clearing the remaining particles.

I look above my head and see him standing there. It's Donovan, the man who took me in as his own and taught me everything I needed to know about my powers that my biological father wouldn't teach me. He tried to stifle me but the Society didn't do that. The helped me to grow and to become much more powerful than I ever would have in the care of Brandon. His hair is long and black, to the middle of his back. His eyes are dark and deep brown, almost black in color. His sinister eyebrows look down at me as he works his mental magic and freeing me from my confines. The small marble pillar on my legs is the only thing that remains. It lifts and soars through the air hitting the wall nearby. The blood flow rushes into my legs fully; it is an intense feeling. With all the weight removed, the pain of my injuries hits me full-force. It is too much for me to handle. I am safe now. Darkness is my master and I am its slave.

Chapter 4

Is There Anywhere Safe?

"Our train passes through the Channel Tunnel beneath the English Channel. The thirty-one and a half mile trek seems to take forever. Brielle is still asleep on the bench across from mine. She is beautiful like her mother was. Her features are unlike mine or Sarah's. She inherited both of our abilities but neither of our dark genetics in eye or hair color. Her light blue eyes stand out behind her olive skin tones. Her hair is nearly platinum in its blondness. Her mental talents go well above and beyond what our capabilities ever were or are. She is a very powerful young woman. I will do whatever I can to protect her, though I don't think she needs protection.

We soon exit the tunnel, the sunlight pours in from the English coastal sky. The brightness causes Brielle to stir. She opens her eyes and sits up. After rubbing her eyes for a moment, she flashes a smile in my direction, stands up, and gathers her bag. _Bathroom, _she states mentally as she leaves the car. When she returns, she looks fresh for the day. It's only a few minutes before we reach our destination, Folkstone, Great Britain. We get off the train and find the nearest taxi stand, get in, and head through the British countryside to the city of London. We exit the cab at the airport. It is wonderful communicating with people in English, the thickness of their accent takes a bit of effort in understanding, but at least it's English. We go up to the ticket counter, show our passports and identification of verification, and purchase our tickets. After all the years, obtaining passports and new cards in order to access my accounts was quite an ordeal. The woman at the ticket counter swipes my card and prints our tickets. I collect everything from her and we set off to the obstacle of passing security. We finally arrive at our gate and wait for the airplane to begin boarding. The last time I was on a plane it was as a family. We had gone on a vacation and two of us didn't make it back. A feel of sadness hit for a moment, I take a deep breath, and swallow hard as the sorrow is forced back into the pit of my stomach. The tears make their retreat into my ducts. They make the announcement to board, first-class passengers and families with babies. We gather our things from the floor and get on the airplane. It's going to be a long flight, approximately ten hours before we set foot back in the United States; I'm not even thinking about the follow-on flight at the moment. _One step at a time, Brandon_, I tell myself. I'm not exactly sure where we're going after we land, I have a vague idea but it's not concrete at the moment. I need to find a good place to hide. I don't know what else to do. We can't go seeking out the Society, not right now. I'm not strong enough to face them yet and revenge isn't going to solve anything. We just need to find a quiet place where we can just blend into regular society for the time being. I'll make my final decision when we get to Atlanta, Georgia. For now, it's just another ten hours of traveling; at least this part has movies to watch and American food to eat between naps.

We settle into our large, dark leather seats in first-class seating. Brielle takes the interior window seat after she places her bag into the overhead compartment. I put my backpack in next to hers and take my seat as well. A forty some year old looking flight attendance smiles at us from the attendant's station near the cockpit. The door to the flight deck is open and I see one of the pilots tinkering with something on the instrument panel. The other two are standing at the door greeting people as they come inside the airplane.

"Are you doing alright, Brielle?" I ask her. She's staring out the window.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm just ready to be out of here and be done with all this traveling." Her words bounce off the window as she answers, not breaking her exterior observations. The flight attendant from the front of the plane approaches and asks if we'd care for a beverage. I hadn't realized how parched my throat felt until those words escaped her lips and entered my eardrums. We both respond quickly and almost simultaneously with a "yes please." I look at her and we smile at each other. The stewardess returns quickly with our drinks. I decided to get my old favorite, the screwdriver with extra drive. I need something to help me sleep this flight away in as much comfort as possible. Brielle drinks her cola hastily as do I with my drink. The vodka hits me almost immediately; my tolerance for alcohol is nearly nonexistent. I polish off the drink in a few short minutes and let the alcohol do its magic on my brain. I drift off to sleep before the airplane even gets airborne."

Chapter 5

Mending Bennett

"I awaken to the sounds of hammers and electric saws. I assume Donovan has made the arrangements to fix the damage from the battle so many nights ago. Our Society is very wealthy and money is never a worry. The comfort of my bed has never been so welcome. I look around the room; it's my room in the mansion. I try to sit up but the pain in my ribcage is still present and, although not as intense, hurts when my abdomen flexes. I turn my head to the left to look out the window. The small, top tree branches blow gently in the breeze. Its leaves flutter back and forth calmly as if waving to me. A tiny, brown sparrow rests on one of the branches, his body bobs up and down in an effort to keep his perch. I gather my interior strength in an effort to test my powers. I need to make sure I'm still intact. The bird begins to shudder on the branch as his feet lose their grip. He drops from my sight to the ground far below hitting several branches with his limp body on the way down. I am satisfied. Knowing they hadn't damaged me completely is utter satisfaction. My body will heal, but if they'd have damaged my mind, I don't know what would've come of me. The Society would have no use for me then and I'd probably be tossed into the streets or killed. I would rather die without them anyway. I rest my arms beside my body; thoroughly satisfied I drift back to sleep to let my body do it's healing."

About the Author

R. J. Hamilton was born and raised in the small town of Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. He graduated from the local high school with a profound interest in English. R. J. graduated a few months prior to the remaining class in 1994.

Upon completion of his high school education, R. J. joined the United States Army where he has done 2 tours in Bosnia and 2 tours in Iraq and had served his country for 12 years. He was stationed in Germany for a total of 5 years which enabled him to see many things that most people don't in a lifetime. His ventures in Europe, as a whole, and trips to the Middle East, are picturesque reflections in his stories. Combined with the many real-life situations that the Army itself has put him in, they are an added realism to his works.

He is now out of the military and resides in Topeka, KS. Mr. Hamilton is currently attending Washburn University as an English Major.


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